


Games

by CarnwennanB312



Category: X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnwennanB312/pseuds/CarnwennanB312
Summary: His red eyes turned dark as he flashed her a knowing smile, “Hows abou’ we make dis more intéressant? Eh?”She made a show of sinking the five ball with nonchalance.“Wha’ didja have in mind?”He came around the table, leaning close as if he were about to tell her a secret.“Winna gets ta kiss da lusa.”





	Games

Rogue leaned across the pool table, lining up the perfect shot.  
“Three in tha corna pocket,” she announced with a smile.  
She pulled back and struck the cue ball. The white sphere flew across the table and bounced off the three ball. Unfortunately, she had hit it too hard. The ball bounced off the wall and rolled back toward her.  
“Damnit.”  
“Don’t take it too ‘ard, no’ un can play as well as ol’ Gambit.”  
Everything about him read as swagger, from his lilting Cajun accent to the way he idly leaned against the table.  
She glared at him, “You ain’t won yet, sug.”  
With a smirk, he tapped one of the side pockets with his cue. She wanted to strangle him as he sunk the three ball effortlessly.  
Straightening, he twirled his pool cue like it was his bo staff.  
“’S onla a madder o’ time, chère,” he said with a confidence Rogue couldn’t even comprehend.  
She moved around the table and took an easy shot on the four ball. She placed a hand on her hip and smiled arrogantly.  
His red eyes turned dark as he flashed her a knowing smile, “Hows abou’ we make dis more intéressant? Eh?”  
She sunk the five ball in a show of nonchalance.  
“Wha’ didja have in mind?”  
He came around the table, leaning close as if he were about to tell her a secret.  
“Winna gets ta kiss da lusa.”  
She rolled her eyes, pushing him back with a firm hand to his chest, “You gotta death wish or sumthin’?”  
His smile was wide as he shrugged his shoulders and backed away so she could take a shot on the six ball.  
“I ain’t scared,” he said smoothly but the implications were clear. She missed the shot.  
Colorful language sprung from her lips as he leaned down and sent the six, seven, eight, and nine balls home effortlessly.  
“Anotha win for Gambit,” he said triumphantly, “now hows abou’ dat kiss?”  
Her eyes widened slightly, “I never agreed ta that.”  
“Ya neva disagreed neether,” he replied in a voice that promised danger.  
He stepped toward her and she tensed. “Remy ya can’t-“  
A hand reached toward her and she saw the next seconds play out in a flash. He would snap an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. Their bodies would meld together as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.  
Instead he took her gloved hand in his, holding her eyes enthralled, and brushed his lips across her knuckles. Despite the cloth between them, she could feel the softness of his mouth. When he pulled away, it was to pass her a knowing smirk. He’d played her like a fiddle.  
She hated when he did that. She loved it when he did that.  
“Ya see, no ‘arm - no foul.”  
“Remy,” she whispered his name like a wish.  
His smirk dissolved as his eyes began to smolder. Looking into those glowing red irises was like looking into the heart of a fire, painful but mesmerizing.  
He moved closer, invading her space until all that separated them was their clothing. Her name escaped his lips as if it would free him from his agony. Hearing it made her heart race and her skin burn. For a moment she wanted to kiss him, to do more than kiss him. To feel him, skin to skin, and damn the consequences.  
She backed away, for his sake.  
“Rematch,” she demanded, moving to re-rack the balls and ignoring the way his hands fisted at his sides.  
It seemed like an eternity before he replied, “As ya wish, chere.”  
Only then did she look up to see that his easy smirk had returned. With a twirl of his pool cue, the mask was back in place and his heart was safely buried behind a wall of roguish charm.  
She pulled the triangle from the table and turned to hang it on the wall. Her hands hovered over the plastic out of fear. She didn’t want to face him, face what she’d almost done. What she had done.  
“Don’ take it personally,” he said as he pulled back and struck the cue ball with a decisive clack. She turned in time to see the balls explode across the table, each headed in a different direction. “I’s jus’ a game.” The nine ball rolled into the corner pocket. “I’ don’ madder if ya lose.”

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write and this is what happened. The angst got real.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome!


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